


Surge of the West

by Ethren



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, WWI Inspiration, Western Civilization, commission, secret war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethren/pseuds/Ethren
Summary: It's been three years since the defeat of Ozai, and three years since Zuko took the throne. All seems to be perfect. On the day that he's to propose to his girlfriend Mai, he reserves word of a strange people from the west who are attacking Fire Nation shores. After speaking with his father, Zuko learns of a war that's been hidden from him his whole life, and of a people very different from his own. A nation of technologies far greater than their own that are now converging on Fire Nation territory.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Zuko couldn’t imagine a more perfect day.

In the emergence of spring, the caldera surrounding the Fire Nation Capital was blanketed by a sea of fire lilies. They stretched out over the edges of the caldera’s mouth and down the mountainside, glowing like flickering flames in the light of dawn.

Zuko stood atop the peak of the volcano’s rim. Beyond the mountainside, the sea rippled in a warm golden light as it reflected the rising sun. A warm wind pushed at his face, and the Fire Lord closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the springtime and sea. Even all the beauty of dawn couldn’t stem the coil of his stomach. Butterflies had taken root in his gut, sending surges of nervous, boyish anxiety throughout his entire body. 

How could he not? He had a very important question to ask a very important woman. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his crimson robes, triple checking for the ring nestled within. When he was sure it remained, he curved his fingers tighter around the wicker basket in his grasp and descended down the mountainside. 

It was a pleasant opportunity to be able to escape the bustle and business of the Royal Caldera City. Even with the aid of his friends, assisting a war torn nation in its recovery was exhausting. These moments of solace were treasured. As he stepped around the mountainside, and caught sight of the one he’d been searching for, all of his anxieties melted away. 

Mai stood upon a ledge, looking out over the sea. A raven black dress accented by licks of embroidered flame that ran up her hips and sides spilled over her beautiful frame. Her dark hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, and as she turned, Zuko’s breath was nearly knocked from his lungs. 

“Took you long enough.”

Her features remained blank, despite the glitter of adoration that burned in her eyes. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “The council wanted to see me before I could join you.”

“Oh?” Mai’s arms hooked around his waist and her lips touched his jaw. “What about this time? Do the Beifongs have another _illustrious_ party for the Fire Lord to attend?”

Zuko grimaced. “I wish,” he murmured. He reached into the wicker basket and pulled out a maroon blanket. “General Ryo spoke with me over breakfast about the outpost that had been attacked this month.”

Mai went quiet. While it was kept from the general public, all of those within the Fire Nation’s inner circle knew of the assaulted outpost on the Western border. There had been no survivors to tell the tale of what had happened. “Has there been more evidence found?” She asked. “Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe?”

Zuko shook his head helplessly. “He’s not sure. The damage done to the outpost is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Perhaps... perhaps it was a spirit? I should speak with Aang about-”

Mai drew her fingers along her boyfriend’s cheek. “You’re anxious.”

“Of course I’m anxious,” Zuko shot back hotly. “One war has ended and now we’re under attack by an unknown enemy.” He sighed. “Perhaps it was foolish to believe that we could have a moment of peace.”

“I don’t think it’s foolish. But what _is_ foolish is when you’re stressing about war when you _could_ be having a picnic with your girlfriend.” A wry smile tugged at the woman’s lips and her fingers twisted into his robe. “Sit down. It’s been ages since we’ve just been able to talk, without all of your royal bullshit in the way.”

Zuko couldn’t help his grin. “My royal _duties.”_

“I don’t see a difference, Zuko.” 

A chuckle spilled from Zuko in a breathy laugh. “All right, all right,” he surrendered. “You win.”

The couple eased down onto the blankets. Zuko retrieved his Sunfire Wine from the basket and poured his girlfriend a glass. 

“So early in the day?” Mai purred. 

“How else are we to cope with my ‘royal bullshit?’”

“Fair play.” She clinked her glass against Zuko’s and downed a sip before touching her head against Zuko’s shoulder. Up on the edge of a mountain overlooking a sea beneath a rising sun, it seemed as though no war could touch them. Rather than the sea, however, Zuko’s eyes were trained on his girlfriend.

She was so beautiful. The dark shadows of her makeup and the glow of dawn made the ring of amber around her dark irises glow. Her fair skin was ivory against the cascade of ebony hair that curled down from its bun. 

“You’re staring,” Mai hummed without looking over, taking a sip of wine.

Zuko flushed. “How could I not?” He muttered. “You look beautiful.”

“Beautiful. How very romantic. Has Ty Lee been giving you lessons?”

“I don’t need lessons to know how to compliment my girlfriend. But if beautiful is too ‘romantic’ for you...” He tapped his finger on the edge of his wine glass and grinned. “Oh Mai, how very melancholy your makeup looks today.”

“Much better.” She leaned to the side and rested against her boyfriend. They said nothing. The couple merely took in the sights, the sounds and the majesty of the dawn, and reveled in the quiet peace of a world that was still waking. “This was sudden.”

“What do you mean..?”

“It’s not often that I’m treated to a little picnic on the caldera. The last time...”

Zuko nodded. “Azula interrupted us.” That was almost three years ago. 

“That’s right. So what’s the occasion?”

Zuko swallowed the knot in his chest. _Did she know? Surely not._ “Do I need an occasion to treat my girlfriend to something nice?”

“Oh, I’m not complaining. You know I love to take advantage of your _many_ royal resources. Platters of fruit and chocolate, palanquin rides...”

Zuko snorted. “I’ll be sure to spoil you more.” His finger twisted the ring in his pocket. “There is something that I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Ah, so _there_ it is,” Mai smirked. “You have my attention.”

Zuko exhaled and took his girlfriend’s hand in his. Her brow arched. “I... I’m not good at things like this. Not good with words like Azula or with people like Ty Lee. So all I can give you is.... Myself. To honor and defend you, with everything I have, and everything I am.” 

“Zuko... what’s this about..?”

Zuko drew his thumb over the girl’s hand. “Leaving you was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” His heart twisted at the thought of it. “I hurt you, and betrayed you.”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to say, you’re not doing a good job of building yourself up,” Mai said. 

“I know, I just...” Zuko ground his teeth. “I love you, Mai. More than anything. And for the rest of my life, I want to love you.” Zuko closed his hand overtop Mai’s. “Mai. It would be an honor if you would-”

“My Lord Zuko!”

Zuko’s eyes shut tight. _Of course._ “I’m here.” Zuko pushed to his feet and turned to regard the messenger.

He looked panicked. Out of breath. His messenger robes were soaked with sweat and he was doubled over, panting. “A missive!” He gasped, handing out a letter. “From General Kazuo! He said it was urgent!”

“Kazuo?” Zuko took the letter and broke it open. Golden eyes swept over the letter, and the colour drained from his face. 

“Zuko?” Mai pressed. “What is it?”

The Fire Lord didn’t answer immediately. His fingers gripped the letter tight in hand and he closed his eyes. “...you’re excused. Thank you.”

The messenger saluted his Fire Lord and retreated back towards the capital city. As soon as he was out of sight, Zuko snarled and fire lashed across his fingertips, burning the missive to smithereens. 

“Zuko,” Mai hissed. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“The Embershard Isles have been taken.”

Mai stared at him. “ _Taken?”_ She repeated. “What do you mean taken?”

“They were attacked, Mai! The entire fleet was destroyed, almost everyone is dead or captured! Spirits, at least Admiral Masato is still with us...he survived the attack.”

“Does he know who it was? Earth Kingdom? Water Tribe? Perhaps.... Rogue Fire Nation soldiers?”

All three options were both unlikely and daunting. The idea of entering another war right at the tailend of the last weighed heavy on Zuko’s shoulders. His fist squeezed tight around the ring in his robe. “I don’t know. I need to speak with Admiral Masoto immediately. I’m... I’m sorry about our date-”

Mai kissed him. Slow. Lovingly. Her arms coiled around his neck and his own instinctively went to her hips. “Don’t apologize,” she murmured. “You just owe me, Fire Lord.”

The Royal Caldera City had changed substantially since the end of the Hundred Year War. No longer did tanks thunder through the town square, and no more were the streets plagued by fire nation soldiers and propaganda of war and violence. The people were content and safe. 

All were blissfully unaware of the attack on Fire Nation shores, for now. Zuko didn’t want to imagine the chaos that would unravel if the Fire Nation discovered they were at war once more. 

On his way to the Palace, a shadow passed overhead. Zuko tilted his head up and his arm stretched out. “Morning, Druk,” he commented.

The little dragon that landed on his forearm had grown considerably since he’d hatched only several months prior. Now the size of a golden eagle, his crimson wings caught the light of the sun and his razor sharp fangs tore into the carcass of an elephant rat. 

Zuko lofted his arm and Druk took off once again into the sky, catching the winds that led it towards the Fire Nation Palace - the same direction that Zuko now marched. 

The moment he entered the palace, he was set upon by servants. 

“My Lord, shall I fetch you a drink?”

“My Lord, are you hungry?”

“My Lord, let me find you a fresh change of clothes!”

Zuko waved them away. “No, thank you,” he said. “Take me to the Royal Infirmary, immediately.”

The Royal Infirmary was the private hospital of the Royal Family and their closest allies. Their trusted physician would be tending to Admiral Masoto... hopefully he was conscious enough to speak, and recollect what happened to him and the Embershard Isles.

He avoided the traffic of more servants and guards via a series of seldom used passages that lead him to the infirmary. He pushed through the doors and the scent of chemicals, herbs and medicines filled his lungs. 

His royal physician, Ichirou was at the bedside of Admiral Masoto. The moment Zuko lay eyes on the man, his gaze immediately began to search him for any elemental wounds. The bludgeoned broken bones and bruises of earth benders. The expert, clean cuts of waterbenders. Or, even worse, the burns of rogue Fire Nation soldiers. 

He bore no such wounds in plain view. Whatever ailed him was wrapped snug beneath a bandage. His breathing was labored, face dripping with sweat from the raw effort of merely keeping himself alive. 

“What kind of injury has he been inflicted with?” Zuko asked Ichirou quietly. 

The physician shook his head. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, My Lord,” he said quietly. “It’s as though something tore right through him.... Piercing one end, and exploding out the other. Were he struck only an inch higher, he wouldn’t have survived.”

That certainly didn’t sound like any weapon Zuko had ever heard of. “Admiral Masoto,” Zuko said. He eased the door shut behind him. 

“My Lord...” Masoto’s voice was sandpaper in his throat. “I’m sorry..”

Zuko’s chest tightened. He waved off the physician and took a seat beside the man. “Don’t apologize. Whatever has happened, it wasn’t your fault. Was there anyone else who survived? Anyone from your fleet?”

The smallest movement made Masoto’s face go white with pain as he moved to sit up. “Very few of us. Most of the fleet was destroyed, some captured. Their weapon... it struck me, and I was knocked from my ship while they destroyed it.”

“They.” Zuko leaned forward. “Admiral. Who did this? Water Tribe? Earth Kingdom? Perhaps Fire Nation rogues? Bandits?”

Admiral Masoto shook his head. "...I'm afraid it's none of them, your majesty." 

“None? What are you talking about? Is there some kind of.... Resistance of all the nations?”

“Your majesty...” General Masoto sighed. “I was told to never let you know. But I suppose, given the recent circumstances... I no longer have a choice.”

“Never let me know what?” Zuko ground his teeth. “General Masoto, if there is an unknown enemy that I should know about, I command you to tell me now!”

“Yes, your highness.” He reaches over to grab a glass of water with trembling fingers and downs a gulp. “Our enemy is not of the four nations. They are not even from this continent. Our enemy is the Men of the West.”

Men of the West. The Seiyo Hito. Zuko shook his head furiously. “General,” he scolded. “I asked you for the enemy. Not some common folk tale.”

“They are no folk tale, Fire Lord. They are just as real as you and I, made of flesh and blood and bound in steel and technologies far superior to our own. We have been at war with them for nearly seven years.”

Zuko’s head spun. “You’re telling me it’s not simply a myth?” He and his sister had heard the tales. All royal children had. About a men to the west with golden hair like the sun, or beards that rippled red like flame with glowing red eyes and hellish features. Perhaps the former two were exaggerated. But if they were real...

Zuko’s gaze turned on the general furiously. “If you knew of these people, why did you not tell me?!”

“One of the orders your father gave me was to ensure you nor your sister learned of this.”

Zuko’s fury did not fade. His eyes burned with anger as he slowly took a seat by the general. “General Masoto.” His voice was deadly calm. “You will tell me everything you know. _Now._ ”

General Masoto flinched. “...Despite everything, your majesty...there is very little I know. Your father _insisted_ that there was a race of men to the west. He sought to find them... and dedicated a substantial amount of assets to finding them. He sought their resources, and claimed they are the reason why our technology, in comparison to the rest of the world, was so... advanced. And one day... he did. He found them. But rather than communicating with these men, and agreeing on trade...” General Masoto rubbed his temples. “He attacked them.”

Zuko scoffed. “That certainly sounds like my father,” he muttered. 

“The Men of the West retaliated. The four nations are divided, but these men... they are united, under a single banner. It has taken everything we have to repel them so far, but... it seems they have finally broken through our fleet.”

Zuko tore up from his seat and paced the room. His fingers ripped through his hair, pulling strands from his knot. “So I have now been bound to yet another war my family is responsible for,” he muttered. “Seven years...I can’t believe we’ve been at war for _seven years_ and I didn’t know...”

“We should have told you when you ascended the throne,” Masoto admitted. “But your father-”

“My father.” Zuko spun on his heels. “My father would know more about this, wouldn’t he? After all... it’s his war.” Zuko was talking mostly to himself now as he walked the length of the room. “He could tell me how it started. The strength of these men, their weaknesses... about them. We know virtually nothing.... General Masoto, is my father still in the Capital City Prison?”

“I... yes, your majesty.”

“Good. Then it’s time I paid my beloved father a visit... and hopefully get some answers.”


	2. Chapter 2

"I introduce to you a water tribe special - blubbered seal jerky! And for the Avatar, seaweed noodles!" 

“Oh, cooked by you, Sokka, I’m  _ sure  _ it will be special.”

“ _ Katara!”  _

The Southern Watertribe hut was lively that night. Toph, Aang, Sokka and Katara had finally been able to take a break amongst their Avatar duties to relax for once at the origin of their adventure. While it was now a place of recent pain, given the loss of Gran Gran only just a year ago, they made sure to enjoy themselves during their fleeting breaks. 

“Thanks for thinking of me,” Aang laughed as he reached out to take the bowl from Sokka. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Twinkletoes,” Toph grinned as she poked at her blubbered seal jerky. “I can tell you’re lying.”

Sokka heaved a sigh and sat down heavily on the ground beside his friends. “Is it  _ really  _ that bad?” He asked. 

Katara considered the question a moment, tapping her chopsticks idly on the side of the bowl as she thought. “I think you just.... Try to make it  _ unique.  _ And sometimes your uniqueness makes it...”

“ _ What  _ is inside these noodles?” Aang hissed as he used his chopsticks to pull apart a string of twisted noodles to reveal what looked to be wet sludge mushed together into a strange, bestial forom.

“They’re appa cookies!”

“You put  _ appa cookies  _ in my noodles?”

“Well people like to dip chips in their noodles at times, yes? So why not chips shaped like  _ Appa! _ ”

Aang grimaced. “I really don’t think it’s the same thing,” he said. 

“Well fine, if you don’t like my cooking, give it back!” Sokka reached for the bowl and Aang pulled it away.

“No way, it’s mine!”

“Then don’t complain! How about  _ you  _ make our next meal, then?”

Aang’s grey eyes lit up and he smiled as he lowered his bowl back into his lap. “Really? I’d love to! I’ve been meaning to make you all some Air Nomad dishes...I’m never able to because you  _ hate  _ our food.”

“I don’t  _ hate  _ it,” Sokka said and Katara snorted.

“Are you kidding? First time you tried the Air Acolyte’s food you whined the entire time.”

“I just  _ prefer  _ meat! But I’ll eat anything Aang makes.”

“Great!” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show you our macaroons! Or our steamed tofu... or our tofu and mung bean curry!"

As Aang began to ramble about various Air Nomad cuisine, Sokka leaned close to Toph. “Is it too late to change my mind?” He whispered and she smirked, grabbing a bit of jerky. 

“Not unless you want him pouting all night.”

It was a beautiful evening. The sun was just starting to dip over the west, and past the glacier upon which the water tribe sat, the water reflected the twilight with a soft, golden glow. The chunks of ice that floated in the sea glittered like flaming diamonds and the tiger seals bellowed in the distance. 

Toph leaned back, belly full and kicked her dirty feet up onto the low set table. “So what’s next on our to do list?”

Katara scowled. “Toph, can’t you get your feet off?”

“Can’t you get off my back?”

Aang cleared his throat before the girls could go at it. “Well,” he said. “First we need to go to the Earth Kingdom. The Earth King’s daughter, Hou-Ting was born and we should go and see them. Then we have a meeting in the Western Earth Kingdom to settle a dispute between a village and a spirit... it seems they accidentally dug up a mound of the dead and the spirits are angry.”

“So, typical Avatar things.”

“Typical Avatar things.”

Toph scoffed. “I’m bored of typical Avatar things. Where’s the next dictator to deal with?”

Katara frowned. “Speak for yourself,” she said. “I’m pretty fond with not having the weight of the world on our shoulders like that. If the rest of Aang’s avatar-dom is spent in general peace and quiet, I’d be happy.”

Aang reached over to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve been getting a feeling it won’t be as easy as we want,” he said. “But... as long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

Sokka gagged behind them as Katara tilted her boyfriend’s lips to hers and pressed their mouths together in a kiss.

A kiss that was halted by the shirek of a messenger hawk that sat on the windowsill. 

“Hawky!” Sokka bounded up from his seat and threw out his arm. The messenger hawk, too lazy to fly the remaining ten feet, hopped up onto his arm as Sokka presented it. "How's my lazy bird?" Sokka asked, scratching the bird under his chin and was rewarded with a happy coo. 

"Does he have something in his letter capsule?" Katara asked. 

Sokka looked and blinked. "He.... he actually does! Wow. Maybe not so lazy after all." He slid it out, patted the bird on his head and unfurled the parchment to read. His features twisted from content to worry. 

“What is it?” Aang asked. “What’s wrong?”

Sokka read the letter over a few more times. “...the Fire Nation is under attack.”

“What?!” Aang snatched the letter to read it for himself. “It doesn’t say by who.”

Katara took it next. “An unknown enemy...? What does this-”

“Come on!” Toph snapped impatiently. “Read the letter  _ out loud.”  _

The letter was returned to Sokka. “ _ Aang,”  _ He read aloud. “ _ I know you four are currently enjoying your well deserved break in the Southern Watertribe, and that you have many more places that you need to be. But I beg of you - please come to the Fire Nation. Our borders are under siege by a foreign enemy. All that we know as of this point is that they are known as the Seiyo Hito - the Men of the West. I need your help. - Zuko _

“The Men of the West?” Toph said. “Do we even know what’s west of our continent?”

Sokka shook his head. “The waters to the west have always been too treacherous for our boats to sail. But if foreigners are really coming here, and  _ attacking...” _ he turned to Aang. “I think the Earth King will have to wait.”

“I think you’re right,” Aang said. “Come on. Let’s get on Appa, and fly to the Fire Nation as quickly as we can.”

There was very little that Captain John Veridian loved more than the open sea. 

The sun beat down hot from the cloudless summer sky. Today, the ocean was like glass as it spread out for miles in every direction. One might describe it as alien. It was unlike anything else in the world. So tremendously powerful, stubborn and headstrong one day, and smooth and gentle the next. 

No.. he could think of one other who bore those traits. But even she fell very close beside the sea in regards to his raw admiration. 

Fondly, John’s fingers reached for the locket that hung around his neck and closed around the steel. His heart ached for her. But he had a mission here, and he would see it through. Lashes of wind carried locks of dark brown hair in a frenzy around his face as blue eyes peered out over the expanse of ocean. 

“Not yet close enough to see it  _ just  _ yet, Captain.”

John turned. A man stood beside him, hazel eyes glittering with mischief as he regarded his captain. "Tom," John said, with a nod to his friend. "I know. I'm just..." 

"Excited?" 

“Restless,” John corrected. “The magic that these people wield... it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. We tread grounds no man ever has before.” He returned his gaze to the horizon and his brows bumped together. “Beyond their shores is only the unknown.”

“Aye. But we’ve dealt with the knotheads without much issue until now.” He pushed John’s shoulder lightly. “You worry too much.”

“I like to think I worry just the right amount.”

“Uh huh. Sure you aren’t just worried you won’t be able to make it back to  _ Miss Lynnetta?”  _

John resisted the urge to grasp once again at his locket. “Unlike you, balls for brains,” he purred. “I don’t constantly have women on my mind.”

“I’d rather think of the girls back home than the fact I’ll have to stare at your ugly mug for the next few months.”

Home. Whenever he thought of Adelar, his heart ached. Countryside that stretched for miles against the open ocean. The groves of woods, filled with deer and howling wolves. The sprawling city of Vandorn with towering spires and the smell of industry. The small little town that Lynnetta was from, with white picket fences overlooking the cattle and lush fields.

He had to make it back... he refused to die in some foreign land. “Aye,” he murmured. “I’d rather think of home, too.” 

Tom was a sharp man. His eyes lashed over and his features softened. “Oi,” he said. “Don’t get sullen. We’ll make it home.”

“Captain Veridian!” They turned around. A man approached and folded his hand over his heart in salute. “The prisoners below are ready for you!”

Their prisoners. They’d been the talk of the ship, ever since they captured them. John rested his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “I know. Come on. We have work to do.”

“Just watch yourself. You know the magic these knotheads can use.”

John grimaced. His hand sank unconsciously to his side, where the burns of a previous battle still lingered on, painfully. “I know.”

The ship rolled slowly over the waves. There was no sound of creaking wood, for this vessel was made entirely of metal. The flag of Adelar whipped about as it caught the air proudly. It held a navy blue base with four white stars in a horizontal semi circle. Clouds of smoke poured up into the sky from the steel columns. Several cannons rolled past their path, and their boots clicked on iron as they greeted a couple guards and marched downwards into the ship's interior. 

John nodded and waved to those who greeted him, with ‘Captain’s’ and salutes, most men pausing in their work to do so. It was immediately apparent to any that John commanded his ship with the utmost respect - and that he was not the sort of man to simply ignore the gestures and march on. He was attentive to his men, nodding back and giving unassuming waves, motioning them back to their work. 

The prison was above the boiler room. It was hot, the ground beneath their feet warm to the touch. The two guards who stood outside the prison saluted the man. “Captain Veridian,” they greeted.

“Farland,” John greeted back with a nod. “How many?”

“There’s fifteen prisoners. The one we’ve managed to capture seems to be the leader.”

“What’s his name?”

“His... name, sir?”

“Yes. What’s the name of our prisoner?”

“I’m sure ash spitter will work just fine,” Tom snorted, and went quiet as his friend sent him a sharp look. Farland shook his head. 

“We never asked his name, Captain Veridian.”

“I see. Open the door. Tom, you’re with me.”

The sound of rattling keys were followed by the door swinging open to reveal a small room. It was featureless, save for a wall of iron bars separating the back half of the room and a locked door. A man paced back and forth, hands bound behind his back. He’d been stripped of his armor and possessions. 

The door closed behind them. Their prisoner stopped in his pacing and his hooded brown eyes narrowed.

In the corner, Sergeant Baldwin stood guard leaning against the wall, rifle in hand. He was a powerfully built man, with thick brown hair and green eyes. "Watch this one, Captain Veridian," he grunted to John as he entered, rubbing at his stubbled jaw. "Just as savage as the rest." 

"I'll be the judge of that. Unlock the door. Let him out." 

"What? Are you out of your mind?!" 

John's blue eyes swept over to Baldwin. “We can’t expect him to work with us if we treat him like an animal. He won’t be in a cage while being spoken to.” 

Baldwin made no effort to hide his anger. His knuckles were white as he jammed the keys into the door and threw it open. The prisoner didn’t move. He stared at the entrance like it might be boobie trapped. 

“You can come out,” John eased. 

Tentatively, the prisoner edged through the threshold of his cell. There was now nothing between them. 

“My name is John Veridian,” John said. “What’s your name?”

The man didn’t answer. He dared not look away from his captor. His raven hair, which was once fastened into an elegant knot atop his head was now disheveled and fell past his shoulders, knotted and stained with blood. John grimaced. “Have you been given water?”

Once more, he didn’t answer. 

“Don’t know why you’re even bothering,” Tom muttered. “These knotheads probably can’t even speak the common tongue.”

“We have to try,” John said back. His voice was calm, and his eyes never left their prisoner. “If it means we can minimize casualty. This is my Lieutenant, Tom Yarrow. We wanted to ask you a few questions.” He reached into his coat to grasp a folded sheet of paper. He flipped it upwards to view the printed words. 

"It's noted here that the entrance to your capital is known as the 'Great Gates of Azulon.' What are the Great Gates of Azulon?" 

Silence. 

“Waste of time,” Tom groaned from behind. “They don’t understand you.”

No. They most certainly did. He remembered with great clarity ordering the soldiers to drop their weapons, and the way this man had waved to his companions to drop their arms. John refused to let this go without trying to get some kind of answer. “Another question,” he said, ignoring Tom who gave a groan. “There are reports of a person called ‘The Avatar.’ What is the-”

“Burn up, milksop.”

Tom’s head snapped up. “Well I’ll be damned,” he grinned. “You  _ do  _ know how to talk!”

Their prisoner shot a glare towards Tom. “Of course I know how to talk,” he bit out. 

John exhaled with relief. “That’ll make communication much easier. Please.... Your name? What should we call you?”

“Eiji.”

“Eiji,” he repeated. “Well, Eiji. My name is John. And you’re aboard the Vandorn.”

The man hesitated. Eiji’s fingers clenched and unclenched behind his back. “My men. Are they dead?”

“All of your men are incarcerated and alive,” John explained. “You’re here for questioning. Which brings me to my question. What are the Great Gates of Azulon, and the Avatar.”

Eiji scoffed. “You really think I’m going to betray the Firelord and answer you?”

“It would be in his best interest if you did. Knowing what to prepare for will allow us to minimize casualty as best as we can.”

“Minimize casualty. You seek to minimize casualty by burning our shores, capturing our men and overtaking our Capital?!”

“I seek to minimize casualty by taking the gates swiftly and efficiently. And you’re going to help us.”

Eiji’s eyes flared with rage. “I’d rather die,” he snarled - before his leg kicked out, and a wave of fire lashed towards them like a whip. John hit the ground fast and hard, and he could feel the heat of flames washing over him and striking the opposite wall. 

The moment the flames touched the very top of John’s head, Baldwin was surging forward and cracking his rifle against the man’s skull, dropping him unconscious to the ground like a rock. 

“John!” Tom’s gun was wrenched from his hip and leveled dead at the man’s chest. 

“Tom, no!” John was on his feet, an open palm towards his friend and an open palm towards Eiji, who was blearily sitting up once more. “Put your gun down, now!”

“He just tried to cook you!”

“ _ Put it down. _ ” 

Tom’s teeth ground together and he put his gun away. “Fine,” he grunted. “But if he tries that shit again...”

His threat remained unfinished as the door burst open. “Captain Veridian!” A soldier said. “Commander Ainsley is on the radio, he wants to speak with you.”

Commander Tyus Ainsley. Then it must be important. John’s hands slowly lowered. “It’s been a pleasure, Eiji,” he said. As he walked out the door, he glanced at the guard. “Be sure this man is returned to his quarters, and that they are given fresh food and water.”

“Yes, sir.”

They left Eiji behind, and returned to the main deck. Tom came up on his side as they made their way to the radio room. “Are you okay? Did his fire hit you?”

“No. I managed to dive down in time.”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn these fire throwers... I wonder how all of this... magic that they use works. They called it bending, right? Do you think it works with every element?”

“I don’t know,” John said honestly. “That’s why I was hoping we could get some answers... but it seems we’ll be sailing right into a surprise.” 

The radio room was the peak of western scientific wonder. A mass of buttons and knobs and headsets and wires that ran across the room, accompanied by the hiss of steam and whirring of gears and engines. A uniformed man sitting down at one of the chairs before the desk looked up to John as he entered. "Captain Veridian," he said. "The Commander is on the line." 

"Thank you, Nikolas. You're excused." 

The man pushed up from his seat and John exhaled before bringing the headpiece up to his ear. "This is Captain John Veridian." 

"Captain Veridian." The voice on the other end was low, but powerful and gravelly with age. "What is your status?"

“In the midst of questioning our prisoners. I’m hoping-”

“We proceed with our plans now.”

“Pardon, Commander?”

“The experiments proved accurate. The Fire Nation and their benders draw power from the sun. We must set sail now in order to reach the Gates by dusk, and begin our assault.”

John’s eyes closed. It was time, then. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

The line went dead. Tom wrung his wrists. “Well?” He prodded. “What did he say?”

John pushed to his feet and rested his hand on the hilt of his rapier for comfort. “The Commander’s given his order. We sail to the Great Gates of Azulon at once.” 


	3. Chapter 3

There was a tension that had settled over the Fire Nation palace. Not to be felt by the courtiers and visiting nobility. To the ostentatious men and women who walked down the Capital Palace’s decorated halls, there wasn’t a care in the world. 

But it could be seen upon the guards, who stood warily at the entrance to every hall and every room. Armed to the teeth, tense and watchful. It could be heard amongst the servants, who whispered fretfully to one another and hurried about their business quicker than usual. And it could be felt in the heart of the Fire Lord as he made his way to his room, in the way it twisted in his chest. 

Zuko’s head still spun as he tried to unravel everything he’d just heard. The Fire Nation was at war. It had been for some time... and no one knew. No one except former Firelord Ozai. 

It seemed Ozai was the only person he could go to for answers. Unless... would Ozai have possibly told...

“Zuko!”

Zuko came to a screeching halt at the entrance to his room. His mother peeled herself from where she’d been leaning on the wall and swept forward to wrap her arms around him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Zuko responded, hugging her in return. “Why?”

“I spoke with Mai. She mentioned that you’d taken her for a picnic but you were called away.. That the Embershard Isles have been taken. What’s going on?”

Golden eyes flicked over towards his mother. Zuko grit his teeth and moved past her into his room. “I don’t know, mom,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me.”

“What?” Ursa frowned and followed her son, easing the door behind her. “What are you talking about, Zuko?”

Zuko unfastened his royal armour and set it delicately on the bed. “It’s been attacked by foreigners,” he said. “They come from the West.”

He watched his mother’s face carefully. To see recognition. A telltale sign that Ozai had perhaps involved Ursa in on his plans... yet, judging from her shock, he could gauge she knew as little as he did. “Foreigners?” She asked as she sat down on the edge of his bed. “From the... you mean the Seiyo Hito? There is no such thing, surely.”

Zuko sighed. “I wish I could tell you different, but it’s true. The generals say that, judging from their movements, they will be arriving at the Gates of Azulon, and soon.” He paused. “And General Masoto said something else, as well.”

“What is it?”

Zuko peeled off his outer tunic, and began to shrug into his dull, hooded robes. “General Masoto said that Ozai has known about this war. That he’s the one who  _ started  _ the blasted thing. He knew, somehow, that the men of the west existed and he tried to take their resources. And now... I imagine this is their retaliation.”

“It’s not unlike your father to fall into conflict when there are peaceful solutions available,” Ursa murmured. Her fingers twisted into the sheets thoughtfully. Her delicate gaze swept over her son. “You’re going to see him now?”

“Yes. I need answers. If Ozai knew that the Men of the West existed, then clearly the Fire Nation have encountered them before. It wasn’t in the Dragonbone Catacombs and Uncle Iroh didn’t know about them... Ozai  _ has  _ to know.”

Ursa bit down on her lip. “...your father would be the one to know the history between the Fire Nation and these men, but..” She glanced up. “Zuko, you must be careful when speaking to him. He will try to rattle you. He’ll try to manipulate you... you cannot let him.”

Zuko tugged the hood of his robe over his head. “I know, mom. I’ll be careful.” Zuko moved to the door, when he hesitated and glanced back. “...actually, there’s something that you could do.”

“Anything,” Ursa promised. “What is it?”

“The Men of the West are coming. They’re coming soon, and they’re coming with technology that far surpasses our own. They’ve already surged through all of our defenses, and I don’t know if the Gates of Azulon will be able to stop them.”

“Zuko... what are you..?”

“I’m saying we need to evacuate the capital, and be ready for an attack.” He swept forward to take his mother’s hands. “The civilians, the women, the children... Mom, I need you and Mai to work on evacuating everyone.”

“But where?” Ursa said. “Zuko, there’s nowhere for our people to go. If we go East, we’ll simply be stopped by their fleet. We have no allies.”

“But we do,” Zuko said. “The Fire Nation isn’t alone, anymore. Have everyone board ships to be taken to the Southern Watertribe. Katara and Sokka will be able to help... we have to get everyone out before they come.”

It was clear Ursa wanted to protest. But Zuko was the Firelord... and she would support whatever decision he thought was best. She roped her arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. “We’ll get everyone out,” she promised. “Be careful... find me, once you’ve spoken to your father.”

“I will,” he said, drawing back. “I promise.” Zuko pulled the cowl of his hood further over his head, fixed his scimitars to his back and disappeared through the door. 

That afternoon, the cafeteria of the Vandorn was lit with energy. How could it not be? After being at sea for who  _ knows  _ how long, they were finally going to be reaching their destination....the Great Gates of Azulon, and the Fire Nation itself. 

The mess deck smelled of food. Gruel, granola bars, pretzels, soup and bread. Trays clattered and smacked against metal tables as soldiers sat down to enjoy their meals. One of the soldiers sat down with his meal and his stomach grumbled. “ _ Gaia,  _ does this look good!” he said with a grin as he dug his fork in. 

“I don’t know if I can eat,” murmured another, his arms resting on the table as he watched his companion wolf down his food.

Gunner, otherwise known as Tobias Briggshaw, was the ship’s weapons expert - and known to have unshakeable appetites. “What, Vic?” Gunner with a mouthful of food. “Nerves?”

“We’re about to go to war, Gunner,” Vic hissed. “Of course nerves.”

“Come on,” Gunner snorted as he piled food into his mouth. “We’ve fought 'em before. And we have Captain Veridian leading us. He’s done well so far.”

“That’s true, but...” Vic hesitated. “Do you really think he’s... physically capable?”

“Does it really matter? Every time we fight the knotheads, we always end up on top.”

“Yes, I know. But Gunner...” he glanced about and leaned forward. “I’ve seen his medical records, as well,” he whispered, voice lowered. “He takes this... medicine, every day. To help his... blood sugar? Isn’t it dangerous to be led by someone with a medical condition?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Gunner snorted. “Rich man like him? He probably has the best resources available to handle it.” The nearby soldiers glanced at one another and nodded agreements. 

“I better not be hearing you two trash our captain.”

Gunner choked on his food as Vic jumped up in a panic. The soldiers clamored to their feet in a salute. “"No, Lieutenant Yarrow!" Vic squeaked. 

“Come on,” Tom snorted. “No need to lie to me. Budge over, I’m starving.” 

Tom placed his tray down. Vic and Gunner glanced at one another anxiously before they eased back down onto their seats. “We weren’t insulting him,” Vic promised. “We know he’s capable, we just..”

“Want to make sure you can trust him as a leader?” Tom grinned. “Trust me. That bastard is probably the most qualified person here... and you’re wrong about him being wealthy, as well.”

“What do you mean?”

It was clear Tom had the attention of the soldiers, as well as those listening in. Tom tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully. “Look,” he said. “Captain Veridian has his own reasons for wanting to take out the fire throwers. But you’ve got him all wrong. He didn’t come from a life of resources. He grew up in the Durmair Neighborhood.”

“Really? That smoggy, industrial dump?” Gunner frowned. “Must have been hit by the Economic Depression...How the hell’d a guy from the slums make his way to being captain?”

“Hard work,” Tom said. “Patriotism is like the blood in his veins. His father was a military veteran. Of course, the system ended up just spitting him out like normal, and he and his wife fell on hard times.” Tom glanced over. “John isn’t just some rich fuck from a rich family who became captain without knowing hardship, okay? He’s suffered. His reason for being here? Let’s just say it’s  _ personal.  _ And he earned his place here, through raw talent and working until he bled and was bone tired. So I don’t want to hear another  _ peep  _ out of any of you doubting him. Understand?”

“Understood,” Vic murmured. “Captain Veridian...he’ll be able to get us through this attack?”

Tom nodded. “Make no mistake. There will be losses. But... I don’t trust anyone more than I trust John.” He grinned. “Besides. If you want to rail on someone for being a pretentious, rich prick - look no further than yours truly.”

Gunner snorted. “Really? You?”

“Hey! Don’t sound so surprised. I went to Valenborne Naval Academy. Officer training school.”

Vic stared.  _ “Valenborne?” _

“That’s right. Rich neighborhood. Privileged family. The whole package.” Tom swallowed up the rest of his food and pushed to his feet. “Now hurry up and eat. We’re nearly to the gates, and I know  _ all of you  _ have work you should be tending to.”

“Yes, sir!”

The Capital City Prison, home to the Fire Nation's most infamous and dangerous criminals, was tucked away against the inner rim of the Caldera. Fortified by heavy stone walls and numerous guard towers, the only man who had ever managed to escape was his own uncle, Iroh. 

It was to be Ozai’s prison for the rest of his life. Zuko often found himself wondering why Aang hadn’t simply killed him. It would have been easier, and killing Ozai had always been the plan. Perhaps he simply hoped that Ozai could one day see the light, and be released a free man... but Zuko knew better. 

He knew well that no amount of time would ever alleviate the bitterness, the hatred and the cruelty of his father. He came prepared for that cruelty.

The guards that stood watch along the tower, once they identified the Fire Lord, allowed him inside. “Would you like an escort?” One of them asked, and Firelord Zuko waved his hand. 

“No. Thank you. This is a personal visit.”

They bowed their heads. “Yes, my lord.”

Zuko picked his way down the iron halls of the prison. 

Within the barred cages and cells were all manner of scum and villainy. Several generals who were prosucted for assist in attempted genocide and the murder of earth kingdom civilians. Dangerous assassins. 

Firelord Ozai held his own special cell, near the top of the structure. An entire floor was devoted entirely to him. After excusing the numerous guards posted to watch over him, Zuko took a deep breath. 

It was time to face his father. 

Zuko pushed through the iron door. Only steel bars separated him from his father, who sat on the rim of his bed. Firelord Ozai looked like an entirely different person from three years ago. Three years ago, he was garbed in the robes of a monarch. Pampered, strong, regal. Now... he looked like a rat. Adorned in tattered rags, hair matted and face sallow. 

But the hatred in his eyes was ever the same as his golden gaze lifted up to face his son, and a slow smile drew across his features. “Zuko,” he purred. “It’s been too long. Have you finally come to see your loving father?”

“There is only one man I would consider a loving father,” Zuko responded. His voice was even, cold and detached. “And it will never be you.”

“Then why have you come.” Ozai sat up to lean his back against the wall and he waved his hand idly, chains bumping around his wrists. “You have your mother. You have your new little sister. You have your uncle and that pretty little girlfriend. What could you possibly want from me.”

“Answers.”

“Answers,” growled Ozai. “You’ve come to me for answers before. And you left sorely disappointed.”

“I’m not leaving without them.”

“Oh?” The edge of Ozai’s lip curled upwards. “You come here demanding answers and haven’t even offered me some tea? Like my traitorous brother. Why would you expect me to help you.”

“Because this isn’t just about me. This is about the Fire Nation.” Zuko approached the cage, hands folded behind his back. “I know. I know about the Men of the West.”

Ozai was quiet for a long moment, before laughter spilled out of him. Cold. Careless. He leaned back against the wall to examine his frail fingers. “Either you’ve been poking your nose where it shouldn't be, or they are coming.”

“They are. They’ll be on the Gates of Azulon soon. The entire Fire Nation is in danger.” Zuko stepped forward and coiled his fingers around the bars of Ozai’s cage. His eyes burned furiously in the flickering torchlight. “You’re going to tell me everything you know.”


	4. Chapter 4

The golden gazes of the Fire Nation royalty were level. Like brandished blades touching the throat of the other. Then, suddenly, Ozai began to laugh. A guttural, husky sound that reverberated through his lonely prison cell. "Very well, Firelord Zuko," he growled. "I'll tell you everything I know...and why you, your traitorous mother and brother and the rest of this wretched nation will die." 

"We'll see." Zuko lowered down onto the sesat outside Ozai's cell. "I think you have some explaining to do." 

"So I do." Ozai pushed to his feet and approached the bars. Even knowing his father had no fire bending to use, Zuko couldn't help the crawl of fear that ran down his spine as his father watched him, like a hooded snake overtop a downed bird. 

"Our tundra tanks. Our steam engineering. Our warships. Where do you think such advanced technology came from?" 

"The Mechanist," Zuko responded immediately. "Teo's father. He-" 

"Wrong." Zuko scowled. "What do you mean wrong?" 

“The Mechanist was a very skilled artificer. He took the technology we already possessed, and augmented it... weaponized it. But the use of steam. Machinery. It was not born of the Mechanist. It was given to us.”

“Explain.” 

Ozai smirked and bowed his head. “Of course, your majesty. It began in the early years of Sozin's reign. His civilization was flourishing while Avatar Roku traveled the land learning the elements. But in the midst of this time of peace, strange outsiders landed on Fire Nation shores. They were not like us. They could not bend the elements, like we can.”

“Not at all?”

“No. They were completely unlike us. Not in appearance. Not in mannerism. They came to the Fire Nation with technology and weapons far beyond our own." 

"The Seiyo Hito." 

"Yes. The Men of the West. But they did not come from any single nation... like us, they are divided. They differed from us in nearly every way... save for one. Ambition." 

“I imagine Firelord Sozin wished to harness this technology.”

“Of course. They arrived armed, and Sozin’s advisors counseled him to turn them away. To fight. But Sozin welcomed the Men of the West into our nation. He sought to learn from them. Of course he had to be very careful. If Avatar Roku were to have heard of their arrival, or the other nations... there would be tensions. They learned in secret. The Men of the West taught Roku, and his closest allies the secret of steam, of engineering. With their help, the Fire Nation was transformed. Factories. Military. Transportation. All of it was because of them." 

"Then the Fire Nation lied," Zuko hissed. "We learned that it was the Fire Nation that first invented steam engineering. But it wasn't us at all... it was these men." 

"It was a necessary lie, to protect our subjects from the truth." 

Zuko stared at his hands as he thought. “I don’t understand,” he murmured. “It seems the Fire Nation and the Seiyo Hito were on good terms... why are they attacking us?”

“I’d love to tell you, Zuko. However....” Ozai grimaced as he stretched his neck backwards. “You haven’t the faintest idea how uncomfortable this bed is. So much pain... it’s quite distracting. I would like a new one.”

Zuko sneered. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m completely serious, your majesty. You need information. And information is not freely given. Especially when I have  _ nothing  _ to lose. A down-feather bed will do, I believe.”

Zuko grit his teeth and pushed to his feet. “Fine,” he growled. “But afterwards, you’re going to explain what’s happened... why we’re under attack.”

“Of course, Firelord Zuko. I’m at your disposal.”

“Set it down, right there.” Zuko directed the guards carrying the lofty, comfortable bed into the cell and watched as they lay it delicately onto the ground. Ozai studied them with a victorious glint in his eyes and he smiled as he approached the bed.

“Thank you. Much more hospitable, wouldn’t you say?” He lay down onto the soft blankets and groaned. “Oh, yes. Much better.”

“You have your bed,” Zuko said. “Now finish the story.”

“Yes, yes, just give me a moment.” Ozai made Zuko wait and suffer as he fluffed up his pillows and tidied his bed, ignoring the way his son’s fists flared with heat as they clenched at his side. “There we are. Now where were we.”

“The Men of the West,” Zuko insisted. “And why they attacked us in the first place.”

“Ah, yes. The Men of the West. You’re right. There were good relations. The Men of the West claimed they wanted nothing more than trade and diplomacy. But Sozin was cunning. He knew well that when something is freely given, there is always a hidden price. He remained cautious. Careful." 

“The Men of the West were Sozin's... technical advisors, so to speak. When Sozin created his first colony in the Earth Kingdom, it was through their help that he installed the first factory on foreign grounds. But it did not last." 

"Roku," Zuko guessed. "He turned against Sozin." 

"Yes. Roku betrayed his friend, by stalling his plans to bring order to the rest of the world and halt his conquest. Ten years before Sozin launched his first strike on the rest of the world, the Men of the West vanished. They gave no notion to where they were going. They were simply gone. They left Sozin with no idea where they had went, or why. So he locked the secret of their existence away, deep in the Dragonbone Catacombs. Only the Fire Sages knew of their existence, save for him."

“Sozin's attention was turned from the Men of the West. Avatar Roku was still a threat. And after his death, he had a new quarry." Zuko's eyes darkened as he looked down into his hands. 

"Hunting the Avatar." 

"Yes. He became obsessed, and never again tried to seek out the Seiyo Hito. After Sozin's passing, Firelord Azulon, who had only heard of the Men of the West in passing, knew only rumors of these men. Only what Sozin had allowed him to know. He searched. Ships were sent into the west to locate them. None of them returned. They simply vanished, never to be seen again. The seas west of our shores are treacherous, unknown and eventually... Firelord Azulon gave up the search, to focus on his nation.”

“But surely grandfather told you of the Men of the West,” Zuko said.

“Of course. We heard the rumors, just as everyone else. Iroh never bothered to seek them out. His ambitions were small. He could only see the immediate threat - the Fire Nation throne, and the walls of Ba Sing Se... But I." Ozai's eyes lit up with glee. "I knew there was so much more we could learn... so much more we could be. I pleaded with Azulon to allow me to search, but he refused. He claimed it was too dangerous. Claimed it couldn't be done. But I would not be stopped." 

Opportunities to sleep on their long voyage were far and few in between. The moment John’s head hit his hammock, he was drifting to sleep. 

Even at rest, John received very little peace. His dreams were dreams of fire. Dreams of yellow eyes beneath demonically curved helms of black steel, fire punching from spiked gauntlets and setting homes ablaze. Dreams of screaming people, screaming children. Dreams of a fleet of ships sinking to their watery graves, a voice, crying out for him, his brother desperately trying to reach him.  _ John.... JOHN!! _

“John!”

A hand shook John awake and he tore awake with a gasp, eyes wild and fist raised to strike at the touching hand. “Easy!” Tom soothed, a hand on John’s shoulder. “You were dreaming.”

“Dreaming...” John massaged his tired eyes as he sat up. Afternoon light blazed in through the windows. It seemed his small nap in the barracks only offered him a half hour of rest. “It was no dream.”

“Nightmare?”

John nodded. “Yeah...Conrad.”

Conrad Veridian. John’s beloved older brother, lost to the sea when his fleet was attacked by the Fire Nation. Tom knew it well. How could he not? Losing Conrad was his best friend’s motivation for joining the army in the first place. Tom grasped John’s hand and heaved him to his feet. “We’ll avenge him,” Tom said. “Conrad. Marko. All the others lost. I promise.”

John sighed as he straightened out his uniform that had become wrinkled in his sleep. “It’s not about revenge,” he said. “It’s about ensuring the Fire Nation can’t touch our people ever again. It’s about sending a message.”

“Aye. A message, and a couple thousand funerals. The Commander is on the radio." 

John grimaced. He had a feeling he knew what this was about. "I'll be up there in a moment."

It didn’t take John long to get ready. He was still dressed in his uniform while taking his nap, and hooked his rapier to his hip before making his way back to the radio room. The soldiers were tense. Quiet. They muttered to one another, anticipating the coming battle. 

“Captain Veridian,” a soldier greeted as John entered. “Commander Ainsley is on the radio.”

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.” John pushed back hair that had been tousled from brief sleep and spoke directly into the radio placed in his hand. “This is Captain Veridian.”

"Captain," came the low growl of the other line. "The time has come. I have ordered General Eisenbarth and the entirety of the fleet to open fire. You are to commence the attack immediately. Kill anyone who resists, and nothing untouched.”

John swallowed the lump in his throat. He forced an even breath. This was war. He couldn’t afford to be soft. “...yes, Commander. It will be done.”

The radio went dead. John placed it down and turned to the nearest soldier. “Take me to the bridge. We attack the Gates of Azulon at once.”

It was impossible to tell the time from inside the Fire Nation prison. Only the fading glow of the torch pressed into the iron sconce marked the passage of hours as Zuko sat, face to face with his father. “If grandfather forbade you to go, how did we make contact?” He pressed.

"I waited. Waited for the right moment. When your mother offered a way to poison Azulon... it marked not only my ascension, but my ambitions, to find the Men of the West. After Azulon's passing, I used countless resources to find them. But just like my father...none of my voyages were a success... until I looked within the Dragonbone Catacombs. I found a secret compartment, stored by Avatar Sozin. It held forbidden knowledge. Of royal secrets, such as the history between Sozin and Roku, and a map leading directly to the Men of the West." 

"But I  _ found _ those scrolls, there was no map...." Zuko paused. "You took it." 

"Yes. I took it. After countless failed voyages, finally, we found them. A colony. Civilized, but vulnerable. An entire nation of non benders...an orchard ripe for the picking. We took what was ours. I burned it to the ground, siphoned its resources and returned home." 

Zuko's gaze snapped up furiously. "So that's what started this?!" He hissed, shoving to his feet, crimson robes flowing around his ankles. "All this war, this violence... because you attacked an unarmed colony?! For what? Greed?" 

“To protect us, you sniveling fool!” Ozai snarled. “Beyond our shores is a nation with technology far superior to ours. They are a threat. A threat that must be culled.”

“So you  _ attack them?  _ You could have tried to make peace. Tried to form an alliance. Instead, you fell upon the only thing you know. War, and cruelty.”

“It was to protect my nation.”

_ “You used your nation for selfish gain!”  _ Zuko snapped back. “And now, it’s being punished for your mistakes.” Zuko grit his teeth. “And now they’re coming. They’re going to reach the Gates of Azulon soon...I have to stop them.”

“Stop them?” Ozai threw his head back and laughed. A shallow, humorless sound. “You can’t stop them. You wanted to be Firelord so badly? Congratulations. Now you get to watch as your nation burns.”

“That won’t happen.”

“But it  _ will.  _ Because you’re weak. But there is a way.” 

Zuko’s eyes glanced to his father carefully. “What do you mean?”

“A way to defeat them, to beat them back. Release me.... And I can help you.”

“No.” Zuko glowered down at the man. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“I take you as a Firelord,” Ozai reasoned. “Willing to do whatever it takes to protect his people...just as I was.”

“You’re right. I am willing to do whatever it takes. And that includes not releasing power crazed psychopaths that never had his nation’s best interests at heart.”

Zuko made for the door. He could hear his father crying out for him furiously from inside his cell. “The Fire Nation will burn because of you!” Ozai roared. “The blood of your people will be on your hands! They’re all going to-”

Ozai’s words were cut off as Zuko closed the door. He sagged against it, fingers rubbing tiredly at his temples as a headache reverberated through his skull. No. He was wrong. He could work this out... find a way to communicate with them, to  _ talk  _ with them. If he could just find Aang...

“Firelord Zuko!”

A guard rushed forward, gasping for breath, legs shaking from a long run. Zuko’s temper lashed. “Out of my way!” He snapped. “I need to find the Avatar.”

“But my lord-”

“The Gates of Azulon are going to be attacked. Prepare a line of defense for-”

“ _ Firelord Zuko _ !” The man’s panicked eyes locked on Zuko’s. “...the Gates of Azulon....they’ve already been destroyed.”

“Come on, Appa, we need to hurry!” Aang urged. The bison groaned and his tail beat at the air, sending him forth faster. They’d left the very moment they could, flying as quickly as they could towards the Fire Nation. Aang couldn’t keep still. He paced back and forth on his saddle, fists squeezing anxiously.

An unknown enemy. Couldn’t they have just a moment of peace? Between Firelord Ozai and rebuilding broken bonds between four nations, he’s barely had even a moment to breathe.

“Aang,” Katara soothed. She grabbed his hand and gently pulled him to sit on the saddle. “Everything’s going to be all right...we’ll find Zuko, and do whatever we can.”

“But who are these people?” Aang asked. “We don’t know anything about them.”

"Well, we at last know a couple things," Sokka piped up from his place at the reins. "Power hungry attackers, prone to sieges, foreign invaders. They don’t sound too friendly.”

Katara shot Sokka a stern look before taking Aang’s hands. “We’ll figure it out,” she promised. “Zuko is an amazing leader. He’ll be able to protect his people until we reach them.”

Aang’s shoulders sagged and he nodded. “...okay.”

“Guys?” Toph’s fingers grasped the edge of the bison. “Do you smell that?”

They sniffed the wind. The color drained from Aang’s face. He knew that smell. The smell of smoke and oil, and the smell of burnt flesh. “Oh no,” he whispered. “Appa, I need you to go down!”

Appa moaned in response, and began to descend through the clouds. As they broke through... there was silence. Utter, horrified silence as they gazed upon the utter carnage. The Gates of Azulon were destroyed. 

The great statue of Firelord Azulon that once marked the entrance to the capital had been broken in half, his torso plunged into the sea. A dozen Fire Nation ships were in the midst of sinking into its depths, bodies floating on the surface. Oil spilled across the surface of the water still burned with raging fires and far in the distance, where the caldera loomed, a great column of smoke lifted into the sky. 

“It’s happening again,” Aang whispered. His voice was strangled in his throat and he could feel the hot sting of tears. “We were too late.”

“Maybe we can still reach them in time,” Katara pressed, grasping desperately at any sliver of hope. “We can look for survivors here, and move on to the Capital.”

It was an option they couldn’t refuse. But they knew the truth. 

The Men of the West had arrived, and nothing could stand in their way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you liked. If you did, be sure to leave a comment! This is a commission, if you like what you see and would like to commission me please visit my commission page here! https://hogwartsmysterystory.tumblr.com/post/619378315297456128/2020-commissions-may


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